


In Which Sophie is Late, and Howl Noses Around in Her Business

by Callioope



Category: Howl Series - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Morning Sickness, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:35:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23517037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callioope/pseuds/Callioope
Summary: She took a deep breath. And then looked wearily over at the sink, where the box Megan had given her rested on the counter.Easing herself up, she approached it cautiously, like it might bite her. It was from Megan, after all, and she hadn’t much liked the knowing smile on Megan’s face when she handed it over. Mostly because sympathy from Megan irked her.And then there were her next words, delivered with a smirk: “Maybe Howl can start spoiling his own kids.”That was certainly getting ahead of things.-OR: Sophie Takes a Test, and Howl Takes Care of Her, in His Way
Relationships: Sophie Hatter/Howl Pendragon
Comments: 42
Kudos: 757





	In Which Sophie is Late, and Howl Noses Around in Her Business

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Howl's Moving Castle fic!!! I read this book years and years ago, and recently reread it. Gosh I love it so much! I had to imagine more about what might have happened next. This takes place after _Howl's Moving Castle_ , but before _Castle in the Air_.

“Sophie!” Howl whined, banging on the door. “The rest of us need to get ready for the day, too!”

She tutted to herself. As if he didn’t normally hog the bathroom with his routine. He could wait.

Another spasm of nausea took over, and she leaned forward to accommodate it.

When she was finished, she slid around the toilet and leaned her head against the cool tile wall.

She took a deep breath.

And then looked wearily over at the sink, where the box Megan had given her rested on the counter.

Easing herself up, she approached it cautiously, like it might bite her. It was from Megan, after all, and she hadn’t much liked the knowing smile on Megan’s face when she handed it over.

Mostly because sympathy from Megan irked her.

And then there were her next words, delivered with a smirk: “Maybe Howl can start spoiling his own kids.”

That was certainly getting ahead of things.

But then here she was, sick for the eighth day in a row, and her time of the month was later than Howl for a royal function.

She didn’t think he had noticed any change in her behavior. Here she was, voiding her breakfast every morning, and he’d just flounced around fixing his hair and running late and puttering around the castle with Michael. 

Even one or two customers had quirked suspicious, suggestive eyebrows her way, when she’d gone green as the leaves around them and had to dart off suddenly to the back. But her own husband, too wrapped up in himself to notice her suffering, hadn’t so much as asked about her health.

_Argh!_ She was beginning to sound like him! Well, at least she didn’t play it up the way he did when he fell sick.

_ How could I possibly take care of two babies?! _

Somewhere deep down, she knew Howl was perfectly good to his niece and nephew, but at the moment, his pounding and whining at the door drowned out any other thoughts.

“Door,” she said, “I don’t want to hear him right now! Not a single sound from Howell Jenkins!”

The noise abruptly stopped. She lamented her inability to see Howl’s expression, if he even noticed the enchantment in his hysterics.

She turned back to the box in her hand. Allegedly this magic stick would tell her what she needed to know.

Opening the box, she discovered a strangely colored piece of parchment, folded many times over on itself. She unfurled it, fleetingly worrying about having to fold it back up later, and spread it out before her. Instructions printed on tiny letters covered the large sheet, some of them in symbols she’d never seen before. She glanced dubiously towards the box and the stick inside. How complicated Welsh magic could be! 

It took her a moment to realize each panel was a different language. She only needed to look at the top left corner.

“Well, let’s get this over with.”

When she was done, she set a little hourglass timer on the counter and told the last grain to ding when it fell through. 

And then she waited. 

She felt as impatient as Howl. The suspense was agonizing, mostly because she feared she’d affect the results somehow. If she worried too hard over sleepless nights cleaning up nappies alone, would she bully the test into showing a false negative? If she dreamed of the look on Howl’s face as he cradled their child in his arms, would she wish the test into a false positive?

That last thought did all kinds of funny things to her stomach, and for a moment she thought she’d be sick again, but it wasn’t quite the same feeling.

So she tried to see how well she could get ready in five minutes. (That would really show Howl, wouldn’t it?) 

She brushed her teeth, washed her face, braided her hair, and even wrestled the impossible instructions back down to the original pamphlet (that may have required some cajoling). 

There wasn’t much else to do with her appearance — she wasn’t vain like Howl, after all — aside from maybe the bags under her eyes and the greenish tinge to her cheeks she couldn’t quite shake. It clashed horribly with her hair. Her finger passed over the packet labeled EYES, and then her little hourglass chimed.

She’d stowed the little stick on a little table by the tub, on the far end of the room, out of sight and mind. As if it had grown vicious, she stalked towards it.

“Alright then,” she said, reading the results. She took a deep breath.

It was at that moment a loud bang at the door startled her. Howl yelped, but at least if her spell hadn’t held, the door had. He wouldn’t barge in on her anyways.

“Sophie,” he wailed, “The king is expecting me in half an hour! I’ll never make it on time!”

Rolling her eyes, she disposed of the strange little stick and took one last glance in the mirror. She didn’t much appreciate those commiserating looks from her customers, so freshening up might actually prove fruitful. Still, a part of her wanted to stew a little bit and see how long it’d take Howl to notice, so she could rub his nose in it later. More likely, using up his cosmetics would get his attention.

Sighing and shaking her head, she finished tidying up after herself and put everything in its place. She still took her time doing it, though. Let Howl suffer his own medicine. She knew very well what time the king realistically expected Howl, and she also knew her own delay was a mere fraction of the time he intended to stall. Honestly, if anything, he ought to thank her for contributing to his own excuses. 

At last, she stepped into the hall, scowling.

“You’re in quite the rush this morning,” she groused. “Eager to get somewhere for a change?”

“Not all of us wake up as beautifully as you,” he said, winking and flashing one of his charming smiles her way. He knew this sort of behavior irritated her, but he didn’t appreciate just how much more it bothered her now that he wasn’t noticing how very not beautiful she looked this morning.

“Some children learn how to share,” she said, ignoring him. “Or did you skip that lesson?”

He tsked at her dramatically. “Coming from the woman who broke into my home.”

There was another retort on her tongue, but her stomach decided to interrupt with a rather uncomfortably nauseous growl. She was hungry, having lost the contents of her breakfast, but the idea of trying to eat more sounded unappetizing. Feeling unwell, she simply waved him off and made her way to their sofa at the hearth.

(She missed Howl’s look of concern and his thoughtful expression as he turned into the bathroom.)

Calcifer crackled softly in the fireplace. “You alright, Sophie?” he asked. At least one of them cared.

Not wanting to open her mouth, she nodded.

“If you need to eat something, I can help you make some toast.”

Her first reaction was to shake her head vigorously, but she might be able to handle toast. And it was very kind of Calcifer to offer.

In fact, unusually kind.

She arched an eyebrow at him.

But before she could say anything, the bathroom door slammed open. She glanced at Calcifer, wide-eyed, worrying that she’d accidentally messed up his cosmetics again. She didn’t think she could handle another slime episode, not today. 

Howl burst into the room.

“Well, that was record time,” she said, somewhat nervously. But when she glanced at him, she found him wearing her most favorite look of all: disheveled and beaming like the day she’d broken their curses and committed to their happily ever after.

“Sophie!” he said. 

_ No _ , she thought,  _ This smile is brighter. _

“Was there something you wanted to tell me?” he asked.

“I daresay you finally figured it out for yourself.”

He donned a look of hurt. It wasn’t at all effective with his wide grin breaking through. “I want to hear it from you,” he said, giving up when he couldn’t keep up the game.

But she was still bitter he’d taken so long to notice her suffering. “What’s the need? You’ve clearly been rummaging around the waste bin.”

“Sophie,” he whimpered, flopping next to her on the sofa. “This is important!”

“I suppose you’ll want some fancy to-do then?” she muttered. “Some kind of dramatic announcement, like the infant rugby kit Rhys’ wife bought him?”

He considered this for a moment, then laughed at her grimace. “No,” he said softly, taking her hand. “Just you.”

Her heart stuttered and her stomach turned as she looked up at him. She wished her insides would stop moving around so much. (That was probably a moot wish at this point.)

“I don’t know if there’s anything to tell,” she said, babbling uncharacteristically. “I don’t know if I did the test right or if I just magicked it—”

He tightened his grip on her hand and she stopped talking. Meeting her gaze earnestly, he said, “the only traces of your magic in that bathroom — ” and here he smirked “ — were suspiciously focused on my medicine cabinet.”

Under his patient, encouraging scrutiny, she finally found the courage to voice it. “We’re going to be parents.”

His grin would outshine even Calcifer. He swept her up in his arms and twirled her around the hearth.

“I knew it!” he cried.

She opened her mouth to chastise him, but the swirling caught up with her. Green as Calcifer’s hair, she cast about the room and found only the fireplace.

“Oh no, no, no," Calcifer warned, fleeing his logs. He hovered over to the workbench. “My charity only goes so far!”

A bucket suddenly appeared in front of her, and Howl eased her down to the floor. He held back her hair and gently stroked her back. That felt nice. It took her mind off worse sensations.

When she was finished, she leaned back in his arms. His fingers did some kind of motion in the air, and she felt her stomach settle a little.

“And where was all this aid a week ago?” she finally retorted. It came out in an unsatisfying croak.

“You’ve been keeping this from me for a whole week?!” he asked, placing a hand to his heart and sounding incredibly put upon.

“I’d wonder how you didn’t notice, if I didn’t know you couldn’t see past your own nose!”

“Not all of us go nosing around in other people’s business,” he said.

“Says the man digging through the trash.”

Naturally he slithered out. “Where did you get that test, anyways?”

“Megan.”

“ _ Megan _ knew before  _ me _ ? Who else knows?”

“Anyone else who had the decency to notice I was feeling ill.” She shrugged. “I’m pretty sure Fanny suspects, and there were a couple customers whispering when I had to excuse myself.”

She almost felt guilty, except it really was his own fault, and she hadn’t intentionally told anyone. 

“The whole town will know by now then,” he lamented. “Here I am, the father, the last to know.”

Her stomach fluttered at that word, but she would hardly turn sentimental when she still had some guiltripping to finish. “You have your own obliviousness to blame for that.”

“How was I supposed to notice,” he asked, “with all your sneaking and magicking the walls to block sound?“

Well, she had done that, and not just this morning. She hadn’t wanted Howl or Michael to hear her being sick. And she had been avoiding him, working longer in the flower shop than was necessary, claiming a heavier flow of customers.

Perhaps she had gone out of her way to be discreet. She sighed.

Howl was still holding her on the floor. When she didn’t say anything, he kissed the top of her head.

“How do you feel?” he asked, like he was asking about her nausea, but she had a feeling, based on the little waver at the end, an undercurrent of apprehension, that he was asking a little bit more.

“Nervous,” she admitted. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“No parent ever really does,” he said. His fingers stroked her arm. 

“That’s reassuring,” she quipped.

He must have been able to tell how much it really worried her because he turned her around in his arms so she had to look at him. 

“Sophie, dear,” he said, “You are a very clever witch and very talented, but I think sometimes it’d do you good to focus those powers of observation inwards. Where do you think Calcifer and I would be if it weren’t for you?”

“That’s different—”

“No, it isn’t. You’ve been taking care of everyone from the moment you barged into my castle.”

She couldn’t easily deny this, so instead she corrected him. “Our castle.” 

“Yes, our castle,” he relented. “And our child.” His grin returned around those words. “I’ll be there, too, you know. To help.”

“If you’re not too busy preening,” she grumbled. “And slithering out of things.”

His face fell. “Is that what you’re really worried about? Me?”

This time, he didn’t feign the look of hurt. She could tell the difference. And now she really felt guilty.

No, she realized, glancing at the bucket he’d conjured and his arms still around her. His antics could be downright childish, sometimes, but she knew Howl was very good with Megan’s kids, despite her accusations of spoiling. She knew he’d always been good to her, in his way. And she knew Howl would never let anything happen to anyone in his family, including her and Calcifer and Michael. 

She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Never.” She sighed as she pulled away. “Just doubting myself.”

He shook his head in exasperation, but he seemed relieved. “Surely you know by now, what an unstoppable force you are?”

“It’s the only way to keep up with you,” she said. He smiled, looking much more relieved now that she’d fallen back to teasing him. “And now there’s going to be two of you.”

“You don’t know that,” he said. “They could very well take after you and clean me out of my own home.”

She snorted. “If our kid is going to be like anyone, they’re going to be like you, because you already act like one!”

“Calcifer, do you hear this slander against me from my wife’s own lips? After I slave away for the king to provide for my growing family.”

“Oh no, don’t bring me into this!” Calcifer said. He’d moved back to the fireplace. “I don’t take sides, remember? I’m very happy for you both, congratulations. I’ll be here for the kid when you two drive them nuts. But for now, there’s a pleasant wind whistling my name.”

He vanished up the chimney. “Coward,” Sophie cried after him. Turning to Howl, she said, “he had your heart for too long, it affected him.”

With a heavy sigh, Howl muttered, “Should have married the other sister after all. She’s much kinder to Ben.”

Sophie elbowed him in the ribs, and then stood. Unfortunately she’d done so too quickly and wobbled on her feet. Howl was right there, steadying her. 

“Well,” he said, “it appears that ball of hot air flew off before delivering on his promise to make you toast.”

“So you were eavesdropping, too?” she asked.

“Fortunately,” he said, not taking the bait, “your devoted, loving husband is here to take care of you.”

“See that you don’t burn it,” she said, settling down on the sofa again. 

He scoffed and disappeared into the pantry. “From me, you get a feast fit for a king.”

“Speaking of which—”

He waved his hand. “I already sent Michael in my place.”

“What? When?”

“When you were busy hogging the bathroom,” he said, spreading out all the ingredients on a tray by the fire, “and I knew I’d never make it on time.”

“Then why did you try to bang down the door!”

“You were taking too long,” he said, “to tell me the good news.”

She rolled her eyes. “I thought you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t know a whole  _ week  _ ago,” he said, but he was still grinning.

Sighing, she leaned back into the couch and watched him cook in silence. He took his time, and she found herself drifting off to sleep again. The bout of nausea had roused her from bed rather early. 

She woke to the smell of toast and apricot jam and a plate being shoved into her hands. She started to stand to move to the workbench, but Howl gently guided her back down. 

“There’ll be crumbs on the sofa,” she said.

“Then don’t be so messy,” he said, settling in next to her with his own plate, piled much higher with scones and pastries and bacon and eggs. At her stern expression, he added, “I’ll clean it.”

She tutted. “You won’t leave this couch until you do.”

They both felt the magic take hold. “Sophie, dear, how can I clean the couch if I can’t leave it?”

“You are a wizard, so you like to keep reminding us.” She frowned as he sprawled out on the sofa, his overloaded plate balanced precariously on his lap. “Although you certainly felt fit to eat like a king,  _ yourself. _ ”

“We are eating for two now, aren’t we?”

She kicked his knee and the plate wobbled.

He gasped. “Sophie! You’ll spill jam all over the couch! I’d never get out the stains! You just want to make this as difficult as possible for me, don’t you?”

“Serves you right,” she murmured, munching on her toast. It tasted very good, and she felt it settle peacefully in her stomach. When she looked back at him, she caught him watching her expectantly.

His worry shifted into smugness. “Feeling better?” he asked, clearly seeking praise for the charm he must have put on the toast. 

She just rolled her eyes again and continued eating. They sat in silence. Howl wore a dreamy look on his face throughout, and whenever she caught him at it, he’d grin back, unabashed. 

_ Parenting with Howl Pendragon _ , she thought,  _ this will truly be hair-raising. _

But both her stomach and her nerves had settled for now, and she satisfied herself with pleasant thoughts of Howl holding a newborn, of a babe with his actual hair color and his eyes, of picking flowers with a child tucked at her waist...

As she picked up what she thought was the last bite of toast, she discovered a slice of bacon she hadn’t noticed before. And beneath that, a slice of melon she was sure had not been present. Howl pretended not to notice, but then his plate seemed a bit lighter than his own consumption accounted for. She smiled to herself at the clever trick, but wouldn’t give him any further satisfaction.

“So,” he said, when they were nearly finished. “What did Megan say?”

The non sequitur threw her off, but then she smirked. “She said you can spoil your own kid now.”

He tried to scowl, but she could see, as with every mention of  _ their kid _ , his smile could not be contained.

He’d promised her hair-raising, but he’d also promised her happily ever after, and she knew she could count on him.

She beamed back.


End file.
